


Sick at Comic-Con

by Pineprin137



Series: Jensen Takes a Sick Day [11]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bad nachos, Embarrassment, Food Poisoning, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt/Comfort, In Public, Miserable Jensen, Nausea, Sick Character, Sick Jensen Ackles, Sickfic, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, Whump, Worried Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:08:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineprin137/pseuds/Pineprin137
Summary: Jensen really shouldn't have eaten those nachos...
Relationships: Jensen Ackles & Other(s)
Series: Jensen Takes a Sick Day [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1416841
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	Sick at Comic-Con

**Author's Note:**

> I chose not to tag Jensen/Jared in this one because it doesn't have to be read that way. However, if that's what your little heart desires, then, please, read it that way.

Jensen tried to hide his grimace when his stomach protested the questionable nachos he and Matt had eaten earlier in the green room. 

“Hi! Oh, my Gosh, I can’t believe I’m here at Comic-Con and Jensen Ackles is signing my copy of Batman: Under the Red Hood!” 

Jensen chuckled and forced a smile while the girl attempted to calm herself. 

“Yeah, it was one of my favorite roles, definitely. Thanks for coming.” 

The next three fans were pros. All having been here before, they knew the drill and were in and out of Jensen’s line in five minutes, tops. 

Behind the tall wraparound desk, Jensen maneuvered his hand so he could rub his belly for a few moments while he waited for the next person to walk up. He managed a few sips from his water bottle before he greeted the woman holding a mini-Priestly-- complete with a shock-blue mohawk and kilt. 

“That is amazing!” He bent down to wave hi to the shy toddler and was rewarded with a small smile. 

“That is one cool get up, little man. Did your mom make those for you?” he asked, pointing to the kid’s shirt and kilt. 

The woman laughed. “Yeah, too much free time, plus a husband that loves plaid.” 

“That is seriously awesome. And his hair? Wow. I know from experience how long that can take.” 

Her jaw dropped. “That was your real hair?!” 

Jensen nodded. “Yup. I let it grow out just so they could do that. They wanted me to use a wig at first, but my hair grows so fast, I knew it would be no problem.” 

“Oh, wow. That is so cool!” 

Jensen was relieved when Priestly’s mother stepped aside, and he could finally see the end of the line. 

He was sweating beneath his jacket, so he took it off and draped it over the back of one of the chairs. 

Turning away from the fans, under the pretense of drinking his water and checking the time, Jensen took slow breaths to quell a sudden surge of nausea. 

If he was at home right now, instead of Comic-Con, he would’ve been lying on the bathroom floor for at least half-an-hour already, but as it was, he had to push through. This was his job, and the fans were relying on him to bring his A-game. 

With three fans remaining in the line, Clif gave the nod, signaling that they only had twenty minutes before they were supposed to go to Hall-H. 

Knowing he was definitely going to need to stop at the bathroom if he wanted to risk going on stage, Jensen kept the conversation short and to-the-point. 

After the fans waved goodbye and wandered into the crowd, Jensen grabbed his stuff and nodded to Clif to let him know he was on the move. 

Clif hung back to chaperone Jared and Misha(, and Mark, but really, it was Jared and Misha they were worried about), but he sent Andy and Mike to accompany Jensen and make sure the actor got to the stage on time. 

Jensen didn’t mind Andy-- he was quiet and stoic and allowed the actors a bit more breathing room than the other members of Clif’s team-- but Mike tended to hover, around Jensen especially. 

Jared was convinced the guy had a crush on him, but Jensen just thought he was overly attentive and  _ very _ protective. 

As expected, when they made it to the Men’s Room, Andy stood by the door, but Mike tried to follow Jensen in. 

By this point, Jensen was feeling pretty damn sick, so he didn’t really want an audience. And Mike was wasting valuable time. 

He turned and stood in the doorway, blocking the bodyguard from entering. “Look, I appreciate the due diligence and all, but honestly? I don’t need a damn chaperone in the john.” He felt a little guilty for snapping at Mike, but the heaviness in his stomach had shifted up into his chest. 

When it was obvious that Jensen had no intention of moving, Mike huffed and walked over to stand beside Andy. 

Jensen nodded and quickly entered the restroom, praying to God there would be an open stall because if not, he was going to end up redecorating the sink. 

_ Shit _ . There was a line of five guys waiting. 

None of them looked desperate, but Jensen had been raised to be polite, so he took a spot at the back. 

He closed his eyes and ducked his head, reached out to steady himself against the wall. 

Something sour leeched over his tongue. He swallowed it back. 

When he heard a stall door open, Jensen’s belly decided that was the sign it had been waiting for and sent up a flood of vomit into his mouth. 

Cheeks puffed out, he slapped one hand over his mouth and shoved past the guy at the front of the line. 

“Hey! What the hell, man!” 

Jensen ignored him and raced for the open door. He barely had time to secure the latch before he spun and buried his face in the toilet bowl. 

It flowed from his mouth as well as his nose, choking him as he held onto the back of the toilet for dear life. Tears streamed down his face as his belly tried to force up everything he’d eaten that day. 

During a brief lull, he pawed at the toilet roll and tore a long section off so he could clear his nose and wipe the back-splash off of the toilet seat. He’d just tossed it into the bowl when he belched deeply and the next round started. 

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there when he heard a knock on the door. He opened his mouth to respond ‘occupied’-- and puked. 

Clif’s voice came through the door. “Jensen?” 

After spitting to clear his mouth and blowing his nose for the third time, Jensen groaned, “Yeah, it’s me.” 

“Damn. I was kind of hoping it wasn’t you.”

Jensen would have laughed if he didn’t feel like shit. “What time’s it?” he asked, repositioning himself over the bowl as his stomach soured yet again. 

“Ten til’.” 

He tried to slow his breathing as he rested his forehead on the cool porcelain seat. Yes, it was unsanitary, but he didn’t really care right now. 

“Noon?” he asked, trying to figure out whether he was done or not. 

“One. Jared sent me to come to find you. He said he texted and called a bunch of times, but you hadn’t responded. So, I checked with Andy and Mike, and they told me you’d never made it out of the bathroom.” 

A small burp caused a bit of something to splash into the water. 

“Gotta say, you’re not sounding so good there, Jensen.” 

Another burp. Another splash. Followed by a deep, grating retch that hurt like hell and only brought up a tiny bit of food along with a shitload of yellow-y bile. 

Coughing, he leaned back against the stall, one hand draped over his knee. “You don’t say...”

Clif waited until Jensen finally emerged, exhausted, then followed the actor over to the sinks. He stood guard while Jensen cleaned himself up.

“So, what’s the verdict?” 

Jensen’s head hung over the basin as he wet the back of his neck. He blew out a slow breath before licking his lips. Oh, he did  _ not _ feel well... Swallowing, he pressed the back of his wrist to his mouth. He stayed like that for a few minutes, Clif warily watching him. 

Jensen knew his stomach was empty, but still, it felt queasy. 

“Are you gonna make it?” 

He spat into the sink then stood with his eyes closed. “Just give me a minute…” His belly coiled tightly, and he winced before he gagged. 

Strings of bile dripped into the sink. He flipped the faucet back on, coughing harshly until he disconnected the sticky strands from his lips. He rinsed his mouth out and wiped his chin down then grabbed a paper towel. 

Finally, he turned to Clif. “Alright, let’s go.” 

They walked out of the bathroom with Clif shielding Jensen’s haggard appearance from the fans while Andy and Mike each took a side. As they made their way down the hall towards the green room, Jensen pulled out his phone and quickly scrolled through the missed texts until he found Jared’s. 

_ Did you fall in?  _

_ Ackles? _

_ Dude, we’re supposed to be on stage in like ten minutes-- Where the hell are you?! _

_ We’re heading on in five minutes.  _

_ Ackles, what the hell, man?!  _

Then, he listened to the voicemails. 

_ “Dude, where the hell are you? Bob is freaking out! Just, call me, okay? We’re getting ready to go on stage, and I’m starting to get seriously worried. It’s not like you to miss Hall H...  _

_ Alright. Just--call me.”  _

_ “Jensen, what the hell, man? I can’t believe you missed the panel. Bob is freaking the fuck out, and the coordinator wants to strangle you on sight.  _

_ Look, whatever’s going on, just call me, okay? I’m kind of starting to freak out here.”  _

_ “Hey, man. I haven’t heard from you in almost three hours, so I have no choice. You’ve brought this on yourself, dude. I’m sending Clif to find your ass. Better be dying or some shit.”  _

Wincing, Jensen dialed his best friend’s number only to get sent straight to voicemail. “Shit.” Next, he tried Misha. 

“Jensen? Jesus, where are you? Everyone’s freaking out because they can’t find you!” 

“I’m with Clif.” He waved to the horde of fans surrounding them, nodding to a few that he’d met in the autograph line. “Jared with you?” 

Misha sighed. “Yeah. Hang on.” There was some rustling then a whispered conversation before a deeper voice got on the line. 

“Jensen?! Where the hell are you, man? Everyone’s looking for you!” 

“Clif found me. We’re headed back to the green room, now.” 

“Shit, man, what the hell happened? You missed Hall H!”

Jensen cringed, imagining the reception he was going to receive as soon as he walked through the door. Bob was going to be pissed, as well as the new Comic-Con coordinator and Jensen’s assigned handler who had apparently lost track of him. 

“Yeah, I know. It, uh, wasn’t the plan.” 

“What happened?” 

“Food poisoning, I think. How’s Matt?” 

“Matt?” Jared sounded confused. “Uh, he’s...huh. I don’t see him…” 

“Probably getting acquainted with the lovely green stalls in the bathrooms,” Jensen said wryly. He had to slow his gait as nausea washed over him. He paused, swallowing hard even though he knew there was nothing left to bring up should he be unable to fight it. 

“...Jensen? Are you there?” Jared’s voice had taken on an edge of panic as he called for Jensen. 

Jensen couldn’t respond. He was too busy trying not to retch all over the floor of Comic-Con. He quickly grabbed the bag with his stuff in it and pressed the items into Andy’s hands. 

Not wanting to attract more attention to himself, he held the bag in front of himself as he resumed walking, the plastic sliding against his jeans with every step.

Clif had taken the phone from him as soon as Mike got his attention. He talked to Jared as they walked, filling him in on Jensen’s condition and reassuring him. 

“Yup, we’re just down the hall, thankfully.” He glanced at Jensen who was looking peaky once again. “No, he’s not doing so good right now.” 

Jensen spotted the door to the green room and looked over his shoulder to check no one was behind them. Once he verified it was clear, he broke into a run, shoving past Clif as he raced towards the door. 

It slammed against the wall as he beelined for the trash can he knew was by the refreshments table. 

Impossibly, it wasn’t just air that hit the bin. Instead, a slurry of something splashed onto the mess of chip bags, napkins, and paper cups. 

He groaned and braced himself, another spray coating the sides of the can and the edge of his hand. 

“Jensen!?” 

“Where the fuck is he! I wanna talk to him right now!” 

“Jensen, thank God you’re okay….or  _ not.. _ .” 

“Look, Ackles, I get that…” Bob’s voice faded into the background along with the others. 

Jensen’s ears consumed with the sound of his own retching. 

And then, “Geez, brother, you weren’t kidding…” Jared’s hand was a welcome comfort on Jensen’s back as he continued to get sick. 

He wasn’t usually the kind of guy to allow an audience to this sort of thing, but Jared had seen him at his worst so many times over, he didn’t mind. 

He dry-heaved a few times, clutching the bin so tightly he could feel the rim digging into his palms. 

A bottle of water appeared in front of him, and he accepted it. But he was so worn out he couldn’t get the lid off. 

Jared reached his arms around Jensen to unscrew the cap, then lifted it to his co-star’s lips. 

Jensen rinsed and spat to clear his mouth then risked a small sip of the lukewarm water. 

“Couch or table?” Jared asked quietly. 

Jensen groaned. “I gotta lay down.”

Jared nodded. “‘Kay, I gotcha. Nice and slow.” He walked just behind Jensen as they made their way over to the lone couch against the back wall of the green room. 

Jared sat down first, gestured for Jensen to lie down. 

Jensen removed his shoes then laid down with his head in Jared’s lap and his socked feet on the other cushion. 

Once he was comfortable, Jared set the water bottle down against the back of the couch and pulled his phone out. 

Jensen closed his eyes and rested one hand on his belly. 

He was asleep in minutes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome!


End file.
